The Box
by Rainbowscape
Summary: Sequel to Trial of the Eureka Maru. The Andromeda crew returns to Monarchea and Beka makes a surprising discovery. CHAPTER 10
1. A Simple Gift?

DISCLAIMER: This story is based upon the television show Gene Roddenberry's Andromeda owned by Tribune Entertainment. It is not affiliated with any of the above. It is created for free entertainment only and no copyright infringement is intended.   


TIMELINE: This is the sequel to Trial of the Eureka Maru which ended shortly before It's Hour Come Round at Last. This story picks up after the events of The Widening Gyre and Exit Strategies.  
**ARCHIVING:** Unless I've already given you permission, please ask first. Send requests to the addy in my profile.  
**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _ This is answering the question raised in Trial of the Eureka Maru that was never answered. Special thanks to those who expressed interest in a sequel. While Trial of the Eureka Maru explored Beka's character, I thought why not have a story which explores Tyr's?_  


* * *

**THE BOX: A SEQUEL**

by Leah

Copyright 2002

**1  
A SIMPLE GIFT?**

Who knew one small box could be the cause of so much trouble? 

Granted it was no ordinary box. It held secrets...or at least the key to them. Lost secrets. The secrets of legendary Nietzschean Plu Valtari. Secrets that had been hidden in the wind. 

Secrets that Tyr wanted to know. 

But it didn't seem like he would be finding out anytime soon. Beka avoided him, avoided the subject entirely, in fact, he even caught the inkling that she was holding some kind of grudge against him. 

He had no desire to tangle with an angry Beka Valentine. He knew she prided herself on keeping her promises. And she had promised to tell him. Later. A very unspecific designation of time, he must remember in the future to get more specific dates, but it was too late now to do anything about it. He'd give her time to remember her promise and meanwhile, he could search for clues, insight into exactly what made Beka's brain tick. 

It was a task of mammoth proportions, but he would start somewhere small. 

He'd start with Harper. 

* * *

Harper shrugged. "I don't know why she wanted the box." He'd just been working non-stop on one those upgrades that meant nothing to anyone who didn't speak mechanic, not even pausing to imbibe a Sparky cola, which accounted for his less than cheerful mood. His left hand fiddled with his medicinal inhaler that hung around his neck, a grim reminder of what they all had survived. "If you'll recall, I was as much in the dark about what was in the box as you were. Why would I know why she wanted it in the first place? Ask her!" 

"Do not doubt it, Little Man. I plan to. But, having been in her accquaintance longer, I had thought you might provide me with some supposition." 

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, I've got more important things on my mind." Harper rubbed his forehead wearily, without caffeine in his system, he was in danger of nodding off. The lines he was attempting to read on the flexi clutched in his right hand blurred before his eyes. 

Tyr noticed his fatigue. "Shouldn't you be getting some rest, Little Man?" 

"It's not bad enough that I've got Rommie as a babysitter!" Harper snapped. "Are you gonna start too? I'd be fine if I just knew where my stash of Sparky Cola had been stashed! I slave for hours trying to keep this overgrown tin can in proper working order and this is how she repays me! And if you're gonna start to I--" Harper flung his flexi with all the force his tired muscles would allow, sending it sailing past Tyr's nose. 

"Do not start that with me, Little Man," said Tyr, taking a step forward and giving Harper a look that made the engineer's knees quake. "I came here to ask a question, not to become a target for your cries of self-pity. You are a survivor. To continue to be a survivor you must believe it. To believe it requires using your brain--the powers of which will become greatly impaired if your body suffers from fatigue." 

"Hey, you're right," Harper replied in subdued tones. His face turned red with shame. After all, it wasn't Tyr's fault that he'd been born with a super human immune system able to withstand Trance's methods at removing Magog larvae. And, crazy as the idea had seemed to Harper at first, he'd actually come to think of this Nietzschean as his friend. He didn't need to snap at friends who expressed concern for his health. Amends were in order and tired as he felt, Harper squinted and did his best to make them. "It's just...sometimes I can lose myself in my work. It's what I'm good at...and I forget for a little while about the body hatchers. But I'm not gonna let them get me down. I'm gonna beat this!" Harper pulled his work gloves from his hands, preparing to close up shop in favor of the long- held-off and badly needed sleep. 

"With that spirit, you will survive!" Tyr patted Harper's shoulder and turned to depart, resigned to the fact that the question he'd come to ask would remain unanswered. 

Harper yawned. "Maybe it was a gift." 

Tyr halted in the doorway and looked back at Harper, wondering if the young engineer had completely lost coherence due to his exhaustion. Had he honestly just called the Magog larvae a gift? 

Harper read Tyr's dubious expression and quickly followed Tyr out into the corridor. "No! Not the worms. Beka's box. You get it? No, I guess you don't get it. I mean, it's just a guess. Like once, Beka helped me arrange a little detour to Infinity so I could be in the Pangalatic Surfing Championships. And remember how she tried to map Dylan the slipstream routes to Tarn Vedra and gave them to him as a present? It's what the boss does for her crew. She finds out something you really, really want and gets it for you when you least expect it. Total surprise!" Harper grinned sleepily at some happy memories. "Kinda strange how much the boss hates getting surprises when she's so fond of giving them. That's what the box coulda of been about. Maybe it was just your turn. Ah well! Time for me to get some shut eye." Harper shuffled away toward his quarters. 

Tyr was left to ponder the the thought. A gift, hmm? Perhaps there was some merit in the idea. 


	2. Back Again?

**

2

** **

BACK AGAIN?

**

"Dylan, this is a terrible ideal! I just thought you should know that," said Beka Valentine, Acting First Officer of the _Andromeda Ascendant_. She stood at the pilot's console, preparing to engage the slipstream drive. 

"Well, I appreciate your vote of support," Captain Dylan Hunt replied. He combatted his crew's chronic insubordination and offhand remarks with humor of his own. "As you know, I am the Captain of All Terrible Ideas That Just Might Work." 

Beka grinned, appreciatively. "Got me there." 

Mister Seamus Harper, _Andromeda's_ tow-headed engineer, cracked a smile. "And here we all thought you were Captain Terrific," he quipped, slapping his forehead. "What a mistake!" 

Beka raised her eyebrows and asked, "You're sure you want to fly into slipstream with no clear idea of where you want to go?" 

"Just get us away from here," said Dylan, grabbing a console to keep his balance as the ship rocked from weapon's fire. "Pick any direction you like." 

"They keep predicting our next move, boss," said Harper. "We've gotta shake 'em somehow." 

Dylan looked towards the images on the view screen. "At this point, anywhere's better than here." 

Beka watched the screen as a huge ship that looked more like a battering ram barreled towards them, guns blazing. Needing no more answer than that, she clutched a control in each hand. "Brace for slipstream." There was a white flash as the slipsteam porthole opened. "Prepare to enter in three, two, one." The explosive jolt caused her heart to race as the ship entered slipstream. She loved navigating slipstream. The precise timing, the guessing game, the unexpected twisting turns that required a split second response, both mentally and physically, all combined to make slip piloting one of the best things in the universe. The ride ended all too quickly and the snaky white turblence of slipstream was left behind as the Andromeda Ascendant traveled through a nexus and began to decelerate. 

"Transiting out of slipstream...Returning to normal space." 

"Any sign of them?" questioned Dylan, expecting the worse. 

Tyr stood at his console. His dark eyes studied the readouts of the ship's short and long range scanners. "No sign of them," the Nietzschean said at last. "They do not appear to have followed us." 

"That's a new one," said Beka. "Well, we're not stuck between black holes and haven't been thrown back in time. I say we got off remarkably easy." A puzzled expression filled her blue eyes. "Why does that worry me?" 

"You don't have to worry. Not about that anyways," Trance said. She looked up from her check of environmentals. "But those traders hit us pretty hard and if you don't need me anymore up here, Dylan, I have to leave." 

"Leave?" asked Dylan, disturbed by the unnaturally serious look on the Purple Girl's face. "Trance, why are you leaving? And, for that matter, where are you going to go?" 

"Why ya here and where are ya goin'?" Harper shook his head. "Don't be sad or surprised if you don't get an answer to that, Boss." 

"I just said I'm leaving?" Comprehension dawned and Trance smiled. "Oh, you thought I meant leaving as in _leaving_. No, I'm just gonna go somewhere different than Command. There's really not much time to explain. Let's just say that if I don't go now, it could get very cold in here, very fast. Rommie?" Trance requested, turning any explaining over to the ship. 

Dylan nodded to her and Trance departed. 

Holo-Rommie flickered into the room, but before she could speak a nervous laugh exploded from the engineer's throat. He was staring at Trance's vacated console. "Your environmentals apparently took quite a beating, why didn't you warn us, Rom doll?" 

"I was busy," replied Andromeda, shortly. The onscreen persona almost wore an expression of embarrassment about her oversight. 

"It's not like I can be everywhere at once," said Holo-Rommie, defensively. 

That statement sounded strange to everyone's ears. 

Tyr shook his head. "Ship, I have a hard time believing that." 

"So do I," said Dylan, rubbing his forehead as his temple began to throb. 

At that moment, the voice of _Andromeda's_ avatar came over shipwide from some other region of the ship. "Dylan?" 

"Yes, Rommie?" Dylan acknowledged. 

"My drones and I were able to seal the partial hull breach and contain several contamination leaks, but some damage caused a surge which blew part of my internal sensor array. It's making repairs more difficult, but I have my bots patrolling the decks to find any damage my sensors can't detect." 

Harper's laugh rang out again. "Oh boy! First, the fall of Captain Terrific and now the revelation of Rommie, the not always all-seeing warship. My, have all my illusions been shattered! Cordan traders! And where'd they get weapons like that? I don't mind if we never see them again." Harper shook his head. "I've never seen traders turn that nasty just because I realized I could get a better deal elsewhere. Who knew?" 

"Apparently everyone but you, Little Man," Tyr answered, reading the looks on the others' faces. 

"So now you're blamin' me for this?" asked Harper, bristling. 

"Now's not the time to be blaming anyone," Dylan intervened. "We need to focus our energies on more important things. Rommie? Status on our locale?" 

"Checking," replied Rommie. "On the bright side, we're not lost. In fact, we're one slipstream jump away from one of our newest allies." 

Beka looked at the star chart that Andromeda was displaying on one of her many screens and groaned. She shook her head and looked at Dylan. "No. Don't say it. Anywhere it but there." 

Dylan only smiled. "Sounds perfect. We need a safe place to run a check on our systems and it's about time we were checking in on them." Seeing the look of rebellion in Beka's eyes, he continued. "They are our allies." 

"Some allies!" Beka snorted. Her voice took on the tones of a tour guide. "Ladies and gentleman, I am now entering our destination. Our next stop will be a peaceful planet that may call you their Most Honored Guests one moment and throw you in the slammer the next." Her fingers hovered over the controls. "Does anyone else have a problem with this or is it just me?" 

The hologram gave her a reproving look, as if she really should have more respect for the captain's orders, but Beka ignored her and glanced about Command Deck to see if anyone else shared in her apprehension. 

Harper had moved to stand near the back of Command Deck. He unhooked a diagnostic tool from one of the access panels. Before the attack, he'd been running a compatability test with some new components they'd managed to procure on the last drift they'd visited. Despite the chaos the Commonwealth's fall had caused, there had been some technological advances over the past three hundred years. Recently the engineer had implemented some massive changes to the Command Deck's design. The ship required constant maintenance with the frequent poundings the Andromeda seemed to get and he wasn't about to let this ship fall apart because some pieces of it were out-of-date. Not on his watch. "No problem," said Harper. "The sooner I can get started on these repairs..." 

Tyr gave a nod of assent to Harper's words. "The barrage fired upon us in their intial onslaught has sadly weakened our shields. A safe harbor to complete repairs would be advantageous." 

Resigning to the fact that she wasn't going to be able to talk her way out of this visit and noting the necessity of it, Beka smiled at her defeat and grabbed the controls. "Brace for slipstream, people! Next stop: Monarchea." 

* * *

One might say that Tyr's presence aboard the _Andromeda Ascendant_ had been entirely by chance. 

It had all begun with an idealistic dream of an ancient High Guard Captain whose sanity Tyr Anasazi had seriously doubted when the Nietzchean first decided to stay aboard the Andromeda Ascendant. It had been a strictly strategic choice. The idea of a single man and a single ship with an untrained crew trying to resurrect a system that had fallen hundreds of years before was ridiculous to the Nietzschean. But the Andromeda ship was impressive and Captain Dylan Hunt proved to have survival skills that were equally as impressive. Tyr had intended to stay onboard until an opportunity presented itself for him to gain control of Andromeda. 

But things had changed. 

He knew the ship better. 

The _Andromeda Ascendant's_ AI was fiercely loyal to Captain Hunt and would never be forcibly controlled by another master. His desire to do such a thing had long since been replaced by a respect of the AI's zeal to fulfill her mission even when placed in impossible situations. Taking over the ship was completely out of the question. 

He knew the crew better. 

He'd competed with Dylan in sports like basketball and Go. 

He'd taught the Purple Girl combat exercises and given her lessons in intimidation. 

He'd seen the Magog struggle against his destructive nature searching for peace. 

He'd watched the Little Professor grow from a nervous engineer into a gifted crew member who faced up to his fears and could be counted on in a crisis. 

He'd gotten to know the unique personality which was Beka Valentine's. 

He'd been impressed when Dylan and Beka had tracked him down after he'd crash landed on Midden and saved him from certain death by his enemies. 

And Tyr Anasazi knew the universe better. 

Forever etched in his memory was his first sight of the Magog Worldship looming into view and its sinister occupants bent on death and destruction. 

Yes, it had all begun with what was once a silly dream. But now, as he had gravely admitted to Dylan, restoring the Commonwealth was no longer a dream. That dream had become a necessity. 

It did not trouble Tyr to be back in Monarchean space. It was good to keep in contact with their allies because, if they were to save the universe, Dylan Hunt and his crew needed all the help they could get. 

And if renewing relations with the Monarchea also gave him the opportunity to solve the final mystery of the box, so be it. 

* * *

"Why?" Beka walked the width of the Maru's cockpit and back again. As soon as her piloting skills were no longer needed on the Command Deck, she had disappeared to the interiors of her ship. "I got us here, isn't that enough? Dylan can meet with the dignitaries, Harper can shop for repair supplies, and Trance can stock up on as many pretty things as she likes. But there's no reason I should have to go planetside." 

"Dylan wishes to speak with you," Andromeda's AI insisted over the Maru's comm. "He's waiting in his office." 

"Tell him I'm busy." I am busy, Beka thought, as she headed to a storage hold. I need to tweak a few things here in the cockpit, the Maru's finish could use another coat, and when was the last time the ventilation system had been-- 

"Beka," said Andromeda with the slightest tinge of rising irritation in her voice. Her face appeared on a wall screen near Beka's head. "Considering what occurred last time, your relunctance to make a planetside visit is understandable. However, it's important that the inhabitants know we bear them no ill will." 

"What if we do?" Beka bustled about opening cans and boxes, shuffling items from one place to another other, and putting this particular storage hold of the Maru's into a general state of disarray. 

Andromeda thought it best not to argue with Beka when she got like this. "Ask Dylan," she replied and closed the connection. 

* * *

Beka didn't want to speak with Dylan. No matter how much she prepared her refusal beforehand, somehow, he always managed to talk her into agreeing with his plans. And the maddening thing was the fact she never seemed to be able to get him to agree to any of her plans. Like that mining proposition for instance. 

She wasn't really ready to speak with Tyr at the moment either, but that was unavoidable because she ran into him the moment she emerged from the Maru. Beka narrowed her eyes suspiciosly. "Dylan sent you here to convince me, didn't he?" 

Tyr shook his head. "No one sent me. But since you mentioned it, in this case I believe, it would be advantageous if you were to join those going planetside." 

"Why's that?" 

"You don't trust anyone as readily as our good Captain Hunt. And early alliances are shaky." 

"Then, why don't you take some of your own advice?" 

"I am." 

"You are?" Beka peered at him in surprise, trying to read the expression on his face. "You're going planetside to participate in all of this?" 

"We know things now that we were not aware of before. The more prepared our allies, the more prepared are we to take what comes." 

Beka wavered. "Well. When you put it that way. I'll think about it," she said and left the Hangar Deck. 

It was a strange turning of the tables, Beka thought. The last time they'd visited Monarchea, it had been Tyr who hadn't wanted to set foot planetside. Now, he was encouraging her to go and going himself? Why such a change of heart? Yes, the Magog were coming, but it was hard for Beka to believe Tyr would place himself in the role of Paul Revere. 

Her steps brought her to the door of the Captain's Office. 

Beka stormed in with a challenge. "Okay, Dylan! Let's just cut to the chase here. You're going planetside and I don't want to go. You've probably already got something up your sleeve to try and change my mind. I'm ready. Shoot." 

Dylan grinned, smugly. "Administrator Elva asked particularly after you. Apparently, that speech you gave them left an impression on the Administrative Board's mind. Of course, your exposure of Reha would be hard to forget. You've become somewhat of a planetary hero and--" 

"Alright. Alright. Stop right there." Beka sighed and figured she was beat. "It's against my better judgement, but I'll go down there--" Beka's pointer finger came up. "On one condition." 

A worry line creased Dylan's brow. "Condition?" 

"We don't take the _Maru_. It stays here on _Andromeda_." 

Dylan forced back a smile, doing his best to take Beka's demand seriously, and nodded in agreement. "I can live with that." 


	3. The Representative?

A/N: _For those of you who have read it before, this chapter was formerly titled, Planetside and remains unchanged._   
**

3

** **

THE REPRESENTATIVE?

**

The sun hung in the air like a huge golden peach surrounded by the lavendar sky. Four of the Andromeda's crew alighted from their transport onto the grassy airstrip which served as Monarchea's main landing area for space faring vehicles. The rest of the crew, Rommie, Trance and Rev, had stayed behind on the _Andromeda_ to work on the temporary repairs that needed to be set in place until Harper found the pieces he needed to complete the final ones. 

A quick glance around proved there was no one in the immediate vicinity so they walked to the paved square. 

Dylan frowned as they reached it. "There's definitely something different about this place, than we when last visited." 

Tyr took a sweeping look of the square. "It is...quiet." 

Dylan nodded. "Yes. It is." 

Harper walked over to them. His disappointment was apparent. "Of course, it would have to be quieter. No one's throwing a huge ball in our honor." 

Tyr looked at Dylan. "You did tell them we were coming?" 

"That was the message I was trying to convey when I last talked with them." Dylan activated his com. "Andromeda?" 

Rommie's voice sounded tinny over the communicator. "Yes, Captain?" 

"Where were we supposed to meet with the Monarcheans?" 

"Upon landing. They were sending a party to meet you," the ship replied. 

Several blocks were traversed and still they hadn't caught sight of a single soul. 

Beka shrugged. "Well, I didn't expect a ball. A parade, perhaps? A little roll out of the welcome mat. I wish there was something going on. This is starting to give me the creeps." 

Harper slapped his forehead. "I know what's so weirded out about this place." 

"What?" asked Beka. 

"Nothing!" the engineer announced. 

Beka arched her eyebrows. "Explain that, would you?" 

Harper adjusted his tool belt. "What I mean is, nothing's going on. It's quiet. This is the center of town. Don't you find that strange? No hustle and bustle. No flitter and flutter of any wings? And no music. It's dead silent. Listen." 

The four fell silent, straining their ears to catch a familiar sound. 

Monarchea, a land of geometry and music, of graceful people who loved art and order, had signed the charter and become part of the Commonwealth. On their first visit to the planet, the crew had been greeted by curious crowds and an escort of guards. The memorable square, located adjacent to the main landing strip, had been teeming with people going to market and visiting the stands and shops that were open during the day. At night, the sounds of street musicians and lively chatter were known to fill the streets around the plaza. 

But not today. 

Today the listeners heard nothing. It was more than quiet. The stillness seemed tangible. It was as if the entire planet of Monarchea, with one accord, was holding its breath. 

Beka frowned and answered Harper. "Strange and getting stranger." 

Tyr turned his head, sharply. His alert eyes scanned the west. He drew his force lance and held it in readiness. "Someone's coming." 

The sound of shuffling steps soon reached the others' ears as well. 

Harper frowned. "Who is it?" he asked, apprehensively. "You don't think some bad guys have taken advantage of our absence and enslaved the entire population, do you? Hey, don't look at me like that. It could happen." 

Dylan caught sight of the metallic sheen of the approaching figures and smiled. "Settle down, Mister Harper. I think it must be our welcoming committee. Perfectly harmless." 

Beka didn't share Dylan's sentiment. "Harmless? Did you say? Dylan, these people may look innocent enough but never forget their propensity for seizing innocent ships." 

A group comprised of three approached. A considerably smaller escort compared to their last visit, Dylan noted. The foremost Monarchean looked youthful and walked ahead of the rest. She wore a trim white uniform fringed with royal purple which matched the shade of her closed wings. Her face was like new copper and her dark eyes shone with intelligence. Her hair was obscured by a hood. She came to a halt when she reached Captain Hunt's position. Behind her, also coming to a sudden standstill, the other two stood dressed in the recognizable uniform of Administrator Elva's personal guard. 

The key Monarchean nodded in greeting. "Captain Hunt?" she inquired, anxiously. 

"Yes?" Dylan replied. 

"Captain Hunt, we apologize for our tardiness. Flight is restricted during this period and we did not make the proper allowances of our time in order to compensate. I am called Neeki and have been entrusted with your care during your visit." 

"Flight is restricted?" Beka questioned before Dylan had the chance to respond. 

Neeki nodded to her. "In honor of the Festival of Music." 

Beka's eyes widened with recognition. She snapped her fingers. "Hey, don't I know you? Yeah. You're one of Elva's aides. You gave Trance and I that tour of the museum." 

Neeki smiled. "You are correct, Captain Valentine. I also explained the importance of the festival to you." Elva's aide spoke once more to Dylan. "That is why Administrator Elva sends sincerest apologies for not being able to see you today. We are honored by your presence. Under lesser circumstances, she would have met you personally, but the festival begins tomorrow and there is still much to do." 

Dylan opened his mouth to say something but Harper interjected. "Is that why it's so quiet around here?" 

"Yes, Mister Harper," Neeki affirmed. She had obviously been schooled on all of the crew. "The plaza is always empty at this time. Everyone is preparing for the festival at home and no more music is to be played until it opens tomorrow." 

"When will we see the Administrator?" Dylan asked, quickly. 

"Adminsitrator Elva? Not until tomorrow, I'm afraid," Neeki replied. "But Administrator Lzar wishes to meet you and invites you to dine at his residence this evening." 

"That's very kind," said Dylan. He had been hoping to meet Reha's replacement. "We accept." 

"Very good. Now, if you follow me to the accommodations Administrator Elva has prepared for you. I hope you'll find them to your liking." 

The captain nodded. "I'm sure we will. Lead on!" 

Neeki led the way, the crew followed, and the two guards fell into step behind them. 

Tyr kept a cautious eye on the guards and the changing surroundings. 

Dylan, Beka, and Harper alternately discussed with Neeki a variety of subjects, including repairs for Andromeda and what things had been scheduled for their stay. 

What Dylan wanted to know was if any more problems had been had with the Yil Yimurs and how the treaty had affected the planet. "Yes, I'd like to get a look at how things are progressing since Monarchea's entrance into the Commonwealth. We want to help if we can." 

"I don't foresee a problem with arranging that, Captain Hunt." Neeki was eager to please. "Is there anything else I can do?" 

"Since you ask," said Beka. "You think I can get another private tour of the Hall of Music?" 

"The Hall of Music will be open for public viewing tomorrow and I'll do my best to arrange anything you like, Captain Valentine," promised Neeki. "But it may be difficult on such short notice. Your representative didn't mention you were visiting us again so soon." 

"Our representative?" asked Beka in surprise, glancing at Dylan. 

Dylan was shocked too. "My representative?" He looked at Tyr. 

Tyr shrugged. 

Harper was clueless as well. 

"Yes," said Neeki, matter-of-factly. She sensed something amiss so she explained further. "Your representative stayed with us a short time and left us only a week ago, but never breathed a word that you were planning to visit." 

"What representative?" Dylan nearly exploded. "I never sent a representative here!" 


	4. Unanswered Questions

**4**

**UNANSWERED QUESTIONS**

"Who was it?" Captain's Hunt's voice demanded, resonating through the hallway of Administrator Elva's Guest Hall. Pale pink and lavender-colored geometric patterns were etched in the stone of the walls. 

Dylan was trying to comprehend the fact that his queston could not have been answered sooner. The aide had insisted upon carrying out her assignment to lead the crew to their planetside accomodations. The whole of the landing party, except Harper, stood in the spacious hall. It seemed the services of repair supply shops were the only places that didn't become unavailable before a music festival and the engineer had been dispatched at once to obtain what was needed. However, the Administrators were too busy to be contacted on the day before the Festival of Music began, even with the amazing revelation of an imposter. There was a certain order to things and a meeting with the Administrators to discuss the issue could simply not be fit into the schedule until tomorrow. 

Now, outside the quarters where the crew would be staying, Dylan's temper was still raging. It was one thing to openly oppose the Commonwealth. But to come to a planet and impersonate an officer of the Commonwealth and, under the guise of orders from Dylan Hunt, do who knew what! It was the worst possible type of deceit imaginable at the given moment. 

"Who was it?" Dylan repeated his question in exasperation. 

Neeki tried to explain. "He was human. Like you." 

"That certainly narrows the field," Tyr remarked. 

Dylan sighed. "What was his name?" 

Neeki looked at a loss for words. 

Dylan glared. "You mean to tell me that some guy waltzed in here claiming to represent me and you never bothered to get his name? What about lie detectors? What about background checks?" 

Neeki looked so abashed that Beka felt sorry for her. "Neeki, we're not upset with the Monarcheans for believing this guy. We just want to get to the bottom of this. So, it'd help if you could tell us. What's his name?" 

"That is what I've been trying to tell you," Neeki explained. "He didn't go by his name. We addressed him the Ambassador of Peace." 

Tyr laughed with derision. "A man you did not know came to you claiming to be sent by Captain Hunt and you weren't concerned with finding out his name?" 

Neeki shook her head. "It was kept private. Only the Administrators knew it." 

Dylan frowned. Whoever this imposter had been, he'd certainly been thorough about covering up his identity. "Well, at least give us a description. What did he look like?" 

"He kept his face hooded," Neeki responded. "He said it was important to his mission to protect his identity. The public didn't see his face." 

"And neither did you, I take it. That didn't make you suspicious?" 

A weariness had crept into the Monarchean official's voice over the course of this conversation. "The man carried the proper credentials. He spoke as if he knew Captain Hunt and his crew well. His actions did not raise suspicions." 

"Actions?" Dylan tapped his chin thoughtfully. "That's another thing that's been bothering me. What did this Ambassador do while he was enjoying your misplaced hospitality?" 

The tones of irritation in Dylan's voice had not been disguised and Neeki's long patience wore thin. She became obdurate. "I apologize for the mistake, Captain Hunt, but that is all that is in my power to do. If you want to know more details you'll have to take it up with one of the Administrators." With these words, Neeki turned and walked away. 

Dylan was about to call out after the departing aide when Beka cleared her throat pointedly. The noise brought him up short and he turned to look at his first officer. Beka folded her hands behind her back, mimicking one of Dylan's High Guard stances. "They are our allies," she said. 

Dylan blinked, put his hands on his belt, and nodded his head with puzzlement. He didn't catch her point. "Yes? So I've told you." 

Tyr watched Neeki disappear from view around a corner and stepped away from the wall he'd been leaning on, looking far calmer than the concerned captain. "Has it always been your strategy to throw insults at your supposed allies or is this just a bad habit you've recently developed?" 

Beka sighed, relaxed her stance, and folded her arms in front of her. "I'm not saying you didn't handle that well, Dylan. But maybe you could have handled it better. Since we encountered the Magog Worldship, we've all been on edge. So, maybe you should give it a rest. Or better yet get some rest. And let me have a try at finding out more about this imposter." 

Dylan rubbed his forehead with his hands as if a headache had made its way into his temples. He nodded his head relunctantly and waved a hand, deciding to take her advice. "Fine, Beka. Be my guest." He turned to the Nietzschean. "Tyr, coordinate with Harper. See how's he's progressing with getting repair supplies. I'll check in with Andromeda and then see what I can do about contacting the Administrators. I'll expect us all back here in time to have dinner with Administrator Lzar." With these words, Dylan turned and headed to his room. 

Beka and Tyr stood for a moment watching him go. 

Beka sighed, gustily and shook her head. "It is much worse than I thought." 

"The trip planetside?" asked Tyr. 

"No. With Dylan. He really isn't acting like himself." Beka grinned back a laugh. "He's actually letting me try one of my plans!" 

"Indeed," said Tyr. "Beka, after we fulfill our given assignments, I wonder if we might speak on a subject that has been long overlooked." 

"Sure. Yeah. Maybe," said Beka. The first officer was peering down the corridor and her mind didn't seem to be particularly focused on the words Tyr had been speaking. "Gotta get going on my plan now." She hurried off in the direction Elva's aide had taken. 

* * *

"Try it now, Rommie," said Trance, finishing her lastest scan of the adjustments she'd completed. 

There was an encouraging hum and fresh air began to circulate throughout the deck. "Environmental control is back online," Andromeda said. 

"Environmentals restored to set safety parameters." Rommie nodded from her position on Command Deck. "Thanks for your help, Trance." 

Trance nodded. "Glad to. Soon as Harper gets back, he'll get you all fixed up. You'll be better than new, Rommie." Trance looked around casually as she put some tools away in a pouch and then headed to a machine shop to stow them away. It seemed unnaturally quiet with most of the crew gone. "Where's Rev?" Trance inquired. 

"His quarters," Andromeda replied. "He's engaged privacy mode. Did you wish to speak with him?" 

"Oh," Trance shrugged. A frown crossed her purple face as she considered the question. "No, that's alright." The encounter with the Magog Worldship had affected all of the crew, but none as much as the Magog crewmate. He seemed to spend much of his time alone lately. Even Trance's best efforts had failed to cheer him. 

Trance walked into Machine Shop Seven and lay the tool pouch down on a table. Then, as she started to head back out into the corridor, Holo-Rommie appeared in her path. 

"Trance, we're receiving a message from the surface. It's addressed to you. Shall I display it?" 

A/N: _Coming soon! Next chapter: Guess Who's NOT Coming to Dinner_


	5. Guess Who's NOT Coming to Dinner

**5**

**

Guess Who's NOT Coming to Dinner

**

"Hey!" Beka shouted as she caught sight of the rapidly departing form up ahead of her. 

No response. 

"HEY!" Beka said, simulantaneously turning her swift walk into a full-fledged run. Her increased pace quickly caught up with the aide's dignified stroll. Beka slowed down to a walk as she came up beside Elva's aide. "You weren't going to stop, were you?" Beka asked with a grin. 

The Monarchean came to a halt and dark eyes regarded the human coolly. Apparently, the youth decided her anger was exclusively aimed in Dylan's direction. Neeki took a deep breath and blinked hard. "What do you want, Captain Valentine?" 

Beka took the opening, however unpromising it sounded, and ran with it. "Look, Neeki. Dylan's been under a lot of pressure lately. As much he probably meant the things he said, he didn't mean to say them the way he did. If he meant to say them at all. And you've certainly gotta admit that if you were him and someone went somewhere claiming to be sent by you, you might get a little upset with you too." Whoa, thought Beka. Slow down. I'll have confused myself by the end of all this. Beka wet her lips and took a moment to catch her breath, then shot out a question. "Are you still with me there?" 

Neeki frowned. "Did your captain send you to apologize?" 

"You could say that." Beka frowned back. "So, you're outta the tour guide gig? How long have you had this job, Neeki?" 

Neeki looked puzzled by the question. "Almost six months." 

"I see. Your planet is only one jump route from a major trading center. In all that time, you've had to have come across people who are tons more annoying than Dylan Hunt." 

Neeki shuddered with fresh anger--or was it the threat of tears? "Your captain implied that I was unfit for my job." 

Beka crossed her arms, sensing she was getting to the core of what really had upset the aide. "Tell me about your job," she encouraged. 

"The Administrator gave me this assignment in preparation for a role as an interplanetary liason. How can I do that if I don't know the difference between those that wish to help us and those that wish to harm us? The representative--the imposter made fools of my people and none of us would have been the wiser if _Andromeda_ had not come so soon." 

"Happens to the best of us. You know, even the great Cap'n Hunt's had the solar screen pulled over his eyes a few times." 

"Really?" asked Neeki with some amazement. 

"No kidding. I've been there. But being fooled doesn't necessarily make you into one. Especially when once you find out the truth, you do something about it." 

Neeki raised her head and renewed energy flowed over her features. She stood a little taller and looked at Beka expectantly. "What do you suggest?" 

* * *

Dylan watched the ice cubes dissolve in his glass and then glanced apologetically across the table at Administrator Lzar. 

The new administrator had dark brown hair and thin brown eyebrows which, when frowning, took the form of a letter V. He was one of the gold-colored Monarcheans and was dressed in a burgundy robe uniform. His 'butterfly' wings, folded neatly behind him, were a bright turquoise with flecks of gold. 

Administrator Lzar noticed the glance. "Was there something you wished to say, captain?" he questioned with formal politeness. 

This was a private dinner, unlike the the ball that Elva had given during the Andromeda crew's last visit, and the empty seats at the dinner table were conspicuous. Untouched dishes of food were cooling on plates. Dylan stirred the food on his own plate with a fork and nodded. "Sorry about your lack of guests. I'm really not sure what happened to the rest of my crew. Something must have delayed them. Would you excuse me a moment? I'd like to contact my ship." 

"By all means, Captain Hunt," responded Administrator Lzar. "You'll find a communication's console directly down the hall through that door over there." Dylan pushed his chair back from the table, stood up, and followed the direction Lzar had indicated. 

One thing Dylan did remember about his former visit to Monarchea was the complexity of the communication's system. The buildings of officials were constructed with a power source which, primarily for security reasons, ran interference of most regular comm signals. Comm to comm contact was thus difficult unless both parties were standing outside the buildings or beside open windows. 

Knowing his own comm signal wouldn't reach his orbiting ship from indoors, Dylan walked over and sat down at the communication's console. Happily, the Monarcheans had made up for this inconvenience by fitting most structures with a console designed to boost and transmit the signal outside of interference. Dylan pressed a button. "Andromeda?" 

"Yes, Dylan?" 

"Lock onto their tracking nanobots give me the locations of Harper, Beka, and Tyr." 

There was a brief falter in the reply. "Now?" Andromeda asked. The image of her face on the screen raised her eyebrows a bit incredulously. 

"Yes, now," Dylan replied. 

The AI's face smiled at him and, for the second time today, Dylan realized she had bad news to report. "It might be a good idea to repeat your request a little later." 

"And exactly why would that be necessary?" 

"Because it was necessary to divert resources from my tracking systems to make up for my damaged internal sensor array until repairs are complete. It's taking a great deal of time just to replenish my sensory nanobots. Otherwise I would be, as Harper phrased it, 'blinder than a bat.' Which doesn't make much sense considering most bats aren't truly blind they only--" Andromeda stopped herself in mid-sentence. "Sorry, Dylan. Some of my information filters are off and its hard to distinguish between relevant and irrevelant material. Where was I? Oh, yes. If any of the crew are outside I could try and establish their location by tracing their comm signals." 

"Okay," Dylan replied. _Anything was better than nothing._

The onscreen AI shook her head. "No good. I can't detect any of them. They all must be indoors." 

"Never mind then, Rommie." Dylan was stumped for what to do next. 

"I can't locate my avatar either." 

"She's not aboard?" Dylan questioned, trying not to sound alarmed. 

"Harper did contact us earlier. He needed some help in bringing repair supplies back and Rommie went to assist him. Without use of the Maru, the task required more than one trip. Of course, being planetside, my avatar's chances of getting a fix on the tracking nanobots are greater than my own at the moment." 

"So, Rommie knows where Harper is, but you don't because you don't know where you--your avatar is now." 

"That's right, Dylan. You're starting to get the idea. But there are alternative options. I could send you a manual tracer and you could attempt to locate the crew yourself. Or as soon as I can contact mysel--my avatar, I or Trance could--" 

"No." Dylan shook his head and grimaced. "No. Forget it. By that time, dinner will be over. Um, thanks for trying." 

Andromeda smiled ruefully, obviously wishing she could have been of more help. "Anything to be useful," she said and her image faded from the console's screen. 

After Dylan had returned to his seat at the dinner table, there was an awkward moment of silence. Dylan rubbed his palms together and said, "I can't thank you enough for your kind invitation, but it appears the rest of my group has been unavoidably detained. I can say with certainty they'll all be _very_ sorry for having missed this." 

Lzar shook his head. "Do not concern yourself. Your crew are not the only absentees. Your assigned aide, Neeki, has also failed to appear. A very strange occurrence for which I apologize, it is unlike an aide to shirk her duty." 

Dylan guiltily remembered how he had acted toward Neeki earlier. Having 'bit her head off' so to speak, he wasn't surprised by her absence. He wished he hadn't lost his temper. Beka was right. He was edgy. "Oh don't worry, Administrator. I'm not offended. I'm sure that she just had other things that required her attention. Maybe she's performing her duties and helping out some of my crew right now." 

"In all likelihood, this could be true," said Administrator Lzar, pleased at the suggestion. 

Dylan decided to advance the subject. "Speaking of our assigned aide, she mentioned you all had been visited by a certain representative and--" 

The door gong sounded and one of Lzar's aides went to answer it. A moment later the aide returned and whispered something in the Administrator's ear. The administrator nodded to the aide and replied, "Yes, by all means, send her in." He looked at Captain Hunt. "Perhaps we spoke hastily, captain. There is a late arrival." 

Dylan looked up as familiar light foot falls entered the room. "Trance?" His blue eyes widened at the sight of the Purple Girl. 

Trance waved. "Hi, Dylan. Hi, Mister Administrator." 

Dylan stood up and frowned with puzzlement. "Trance, what are you doing here?" 

"Um," said Trance, waving her tail back and forth rapidly. "You probably know by now but, guess who's not coming to dinner?" Trance brightened, pleased to have turned this message she'd come to deliver into a little game. 

Dylan put on a smile and raised his pointer finger. "Could you excuse us for one minute, Administrator?" 

As soon as they had entered another room, Dylan turned to Trance. "Okay, Trance. What happened?" 

"Ah. Nothing yet," said Trance with a signature shrug. "But I just didn't want you to be worried, Dylan, when nobody showed up. And to let you know everything's A-okay." 

"So, where's Beka?" 

"I can't tell you." 

"Everything's okay, but you can't tell me where Beka is?" 

"She said something about a plan. But she doesn't know for sure, so it's a secret." 

Dylan knew better than to try to get Trance to reveal a secret. "What about Tyr?" 

"I don't know." 

"And Harper?" 

"Oh! Oh!" Trance raised her hand, excitedly. "I know the answer to that one. He's working with Rommie to get repair supplies for the Andromeda." 

"Tell me something I don't know." 

Trance tilted her head and blinked innocently. "Did you know that the climate on this planet is perfect for tundra flowers and--" 

"Never mind," said Dylan, shaking his head. "At least one member of my crew is here. Let's make the most of it." 

"Actually, Dylan, I--" 

"Come on, Trance." 

"But--" 

"No buts," said Dylan, pressing on her shoulders to gently guide Trance back out into the dining room. 

"Is everything alright?" asked Administrator Lzar when they rejoined him at the table. 

"I think it will all be straightened out soon," said Dylan, hopefully. He pulled out a chair for the new dinner guest before sitting once more in his own. "Meet my environmental systems officer." 

"Hello again," said Trance with that beguiling way that belonged to her alone. "I'm Trance Gemini and it's a pleasure to meet you. You'll be at the opening ceremonies of the festival tomorrow, won't you? Oh, wonderful!" Trance smiled and then hopped to her feet. "As much as I'd really love to stay and chat, I'll be going now. But your house is pretty and the food was wonderful." 

"Trance!" said Dylan, reprovingly. He couldn't believe she was going to walk out now. "You haven't tasted any of it." 

"Oh! Well, the culinary presentation and the aroma was so excellent that I'm sure it would have been wonderful if I had. Besides you don't need me, do you, Administrator? Dylan had something important he wanted to talk with you about and I'd only be in the way. Enjoy the beautiful evening." 

"You too, my dear," replied Administrator Lzar. He looked at Dylan with an approving nod as the Purple Girl tripped lightly away. "Lovely child." 

"Oh, yes." Dylan replied, absently. His curiousity along with his suspicions were rising. Dylan was on the point of excusing himself for a third time to follow Trance, but the words of Administrator Lzar glued him back to his seat. 

"What was it you needed to talk with me so urgently about, Captain Hunt?" 


	6. Possibilities

**A/N:** Chapter 5 continued. If you're still reading, might I have a review? 

Dylan forced his attention back to Administrator Lzar. He had to hand it to Trance. She certainly knew how to manipulate a situation. He'd have to wait until later to find out what Trance and others could possibly be doing now. Besides, Trance had assured him that Beka had a plan. 

Whatever it was, it couldn't possibly land them in as much trouble as last time. 

Could it?   


**6**

**

POSSIBLITIES

**

_What was that?_

Her eyes scanned the darkness and she listened intently but didn't hear anything. Beka prided herself on having above average hearing. With the life she had led before _Andromeda_, the advantage had helped her avoid an ambush more than once. 

_Just my imagination._ Beka clenched her teeth to steady jumpy nerves and moved forward again through the deserted streets. _You'd think the Monarcheans would think to install street lamps in more than just the market areas._

Just to be on the safe side, she soon left the road in favor of walking along the shadowy side of a convenient building. She strode purposefully along it, until the wall ran out and then sprinted quickly to the next building's wall, paused, and watched. A chill ran up and down Beka's spine. She had caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. This wasn't her imagination. Someone was definitely here and following her, closely too, or else she would have already lost the culprit in the dark. She switched on the targeting light of her force lance. "Come out!" Beka spoke boldly to the shadows. "Or I'll make you." 

A hulking but familiar shadow seemed to materialize out of the dark. 

Beka dropped her arm immediately and shook her head. "Tyr! What are you doing here?" 

Even in the dark, she could imagine his trademark somber expression as he answered. "I could very well ask you the same question." He made a motion towards the direction Beka had been headed, indicating he had surmised her destination. "When you missed our appointment without explanation, I came looking for you." 

Beka looked towards the museum building where she'd been heading. She debated on whether or not to let Tyr in on her plans. "So you found me," she replied. Her short sentence came out more brusquely than she'd intended it, but she was running on a time frame. There wasn't time for long explanations. Yet, she resented what Tyr might think if she didn't tell him what was going on. 

She tried to think and asked a question to fill time. "Remember the place?" 

Tyr gave a nod towards the referenced museum. There was a question in was in his gesture. "Indelibly. In truth, our return here has called to mind a question you never answered to my satisfaction." 

Beka's mind raced. She recalled faintly that Tyr had wanted to talk earlier. She regretted that she hadn't had time then, and still didn't have time now. Things had been tense between them lately. He was right. They needed to talk. Just not now. 

Even though he hadn't asked, Tyr must be wondering why she had come here. Beka chose the short explanation. "You don't have to worry." 

Tyr took a step closer. "Dylan knows what you are doing?" 

_Well. No._ "You don't have to worry about Dylan either. This is totally legit." 

Tyr wasn't convinced. "Ah yes, that was the first thought I had when I saw you heading here under the cloak of darkness." 

Beka was through with explanations. "Believe what you will, Tyr," she said, deprecatingly. "Run and tattle to daddy!" She paused and a challenging tone entered her voice. "Or, since you're already here, you might as well join me." 

He didn't answer her as she covered the last few feet of the yard and arrived at a side door of the museum. She raised her hand to knock and was startled by his voice close to her ear. "I will!" 

Tyr stood beside her at the door, arms folded across his chest, and waited for her next move. 

Beka glanced at him. Was it just the way the shadows fell or was there an engaging warmth in his eyes? She dared to look again, but her further scrutiny found only an aloof expression. She dismissed the errant thought quickly, balled a fist, and tapped at the door. 

She couldn't help grinning at the flicker of surprise that darted across the Nietzschean's face as the door was pulled open and a cheery voice greeted them. "Come in, Captain Valentine. I've been expecting you." 

"See, Tyr," Beka whispered, nudging him with her elbow. "Perfectly legit." 

Neeki looked upon Tyr's presence with puzzlement. She closed the door behind them, but did not lock it, then spoke to Beka. "We did agree to keep this a limited viewing. I thought you said you were bringing your purple friend." 

Beka shrugged, still enjoying remembering the look on Tyr's face. "Plans change, Neeki. But there's always room for one more." 

Neeki seemed to accept this slight shift in the plan. "Alright. Shall we begin?" 

Beka checked the hour. "We'll wait for Trance. She had an errand she insisted on running but she'll be here." 

* * *

_Poor Dylan._ Trance sighed regretfully as she hurried away from Administrator Lzar's residence. Of all the crew, with the exception of Rommie, Trance was the one who usually stuck by his decisions and backed him up. Her behavior must be very puzzling to him. She thought briefly over the events of the past several hours. 

_"Trance, we're receiving a message from the surface. It's addressed to you. Shall I display it?"_

_A message?_ Trance had thought. She nodded to the hologram. "Yes, put it through." 

Beka's face appeared on the display screen located on one wall of the corridor. "Trance. Here's the scoop: Some imposter was here claiming to represent Dylan. Knew a lot about _Andromeda_ and us too. Our Monarchean officials are too busy getting ready for their music festival to investigate. So I am. Could use your guesswork. Call me at these coordinates I've sent. I should be at them by the time you get this message." 

_Oh dear_, thought Trance. _An imposter?_ "Rommie, would you please--" Trance began. 

"Already on it," Holo-Rommie replied. "Communications link established. Audio only." 

"Beka?" asked Trance. 

Beka's voice came over the air. "Trance? Got my message? Right on time. How are things going, Rommie?" 

"Repairs would go more quickly if only my chief engineer were here. Know when we'll be seeing him again?" the android replied from the Command Deck. 

"Check your sensors. Harper's headed your way. Once he docks, Trance can head down." 

"But Beka," replied Trance. "I don't think I should leave _Andromeda_. I mean, she's not feeling her best." 

"Trance, please. I could really use your help with something I've got in mind. It's important." 

Trance looked questioningly at Holo-Rommie. The hologram shrugged. "Thanks for your concern, Trance. It's true, ship's systems aren't fully functional at the moment, but we've seen worst. If Beka needs you, you can go." 

"Harper's up there," Beka chimed in. "It'll be fine. Come on. Don't you want to ask Elva how the plants you gave her are faring?" 

_That was a tempting offer._ Trance faltered. "Yes." 

To Beka, that settled it. "Then, what are you waiting for?" 

Trance wasn't sure. "Harper might need help with the repairs." 

"Harper's docked in Hangar Deck," Andromeda informed helpfully. In another moment, the efficient ship had contacted him and established a video comlink. Harper's smiling face appeared on a wall screen from the aforesaid location. 

"Hey, Beka. Nice to hear from you. Hey, Trance. Don't mind seeing you again. And I know Rommie was counting the minutes while I was away. You rang?" 

"Harper?" Beka directed her question to the engineer. "Think you can spare a certain environmental systems officer for a few hours?" 

"Can you?" Trance looked at him, wide-eyed. 

"Hey, the Harper will handle it. And Rommie will help me, woncha darlin?" 

Rommie's voice rolled through the air. "As always, Harper." 

Harper lifted a case. "You best get while the gettin's good, Trance. I have a feelin' Dylan's gonna keep us awfully busy tomorrow." 

_Sweet boy_, Trance thought. She suspected Harper could have used the help, but seeing how much she wanted to go, he didn't have the heart to ask. She'd remember his act of kindness and work extra hard when she got back. Feeling reassured, Trance started towards Hangar Deck. "Wait for me, Beka. I'll be right down." 

Once Trance was planetside, Beka had lost no time in recounting what had happened since the intial crew's arrival and asking Trance's take on things. 

"I don't know, Beka." Trance shrugged. "We've met so many different people last year. There are still too many possiblities. I'd need more information." 

"I thought you might stay that," said Beka, knowingly. "And I think I know where to get it." 

The plan had sounded good to Trance, but Dylan didn't know about it, and Beka had sworn her to secrecy. 

Now, Trance arrived at the museum after her visit to Administrator's Lzar dinner, glad in the knowledge that even if Dylan was worrying about his crew's absence, at least he knew what little she had been able to tell him. _He wouldn't be totally in the dark when--well, it was only a possibility of what might happen. Why think about it now?_

* * *

"How long do we have?" Beka asked, anxiously. 

"Thirty minutes at most. The guards will pass by again then and I cannot be sure they'd be agreeable as I to this private tour," Neeki replied. 

"Got it," Beka nodded. "We'll just have to do our look-see in thirty minutes or less." The Hall of Music was as huge and as impressive as Beka remembered it. The stadium-style seats were empty but the slightest whisper was still amplified about the hall. 

Tyr looked at Beka. "And what purpose does this little after hours tour serve?" 

"I don't know what to tell you, Tyr. Call it a hunch." She looked again at the aide. "Tell me, what else have you found out?" 

"What I told you before," Neeki replied. "The colleague who took my place doing the tours for the museum, said that the ambassador spent several hours in the Hall of Music. He found it fascinating." 

Beka shook her head. "Once again getting into the Monarchean's good graces. Gotta love a fellow who loves music. So, what did he do in here?" 

"No one knows for certain. He asked for his solitude while he remained here." 

"Uh oh," said Trance. 

Tyr growled. "You left him alone with the most valuable of your possessions?" 

Beka frowned. "Neeki, did you notice anything missing? Unlock the cases." 

Neeki shook her head. "Our security guards or systems would have found something amiss." 

"I beg to differ milady, but your security leaves much to be desired," Tyr replied with authority. "Do as she says, unlock them now!" 

"The codes are rotated. I am not certain I still remember--" Neeki's voice trailed off as she noted the glare Tyr gave her. She opened a panel in the wall, punched in the codes, and waited to see just how sharp her memory would prove to be. 

A low hum in the air ceased and deeper silence descended as the force fields surrounding the items in the display cases deactivated. 

The _Andromeda_ crewmates scattered in all directions to check each one. 

"You were still working here when we left, Neeki." Beka said. "Just where is my donation to this monument of music located?" 

Before Neeki could answer, Trance interrupted, waving her hand from another section of the hall. Trance had just finished searching through a display case. "This imposter guy must have been pretty smart. I mean he knew enough about us to fool an entire planet and so far get away with it. And I think I know exactly what he was after." 

"How do you know?" Beka asked. 

"Well, the probality of a culture who reveres music having the identical CD collection of Beka Valentine is--" 

"Wait," Beka groaned, realizing it. "Don't tell me. Let's review what we know: Guy who loves music, knows entirely too much about _Andromeda_, and has the smarts to con an entire planet. Do we know anyone like that?" 

Realization dawned in Tyr's dark eyes now too, and he looked from Beka to Trance and back again. 

A mixture of disgust, anger, and pure shock value resonated as the three shipmates uttered a single name. 

"RAFE!" 


	7. What To Do

**A/N:** I must say I'm delighted to know someone's still reading this story. My life's been hectic with college starting, but I'll continue posting as long as I get at least one little review. Thanks for the reviews! **

7

**

"How could he?" Beka fumed, coming over to the display Trance had brought to her attention. The label on a small plaque under the glass read, "Artifact of Plu Valtari, Nietzschean. Donated by Captain Beka Valentine." Valtari's box rested in the correct spot for the display. Its lid was open. 

Beka reached inside the box and her hand closed, not around an artifact but upon something smoother and smaller. There were dozens of them. Beka fingered one and pulled it out. She was a holding a familiar-looking CD case. "Hello, old friend," she whispered. She opened it just to be sure a CD actually resided there, then snapped it shut, and dropped the case back in the box to rejoin its companions. 

Beka was starting to get a bad feeling about this scenario. _Rafe said he was going to sell my so-called 'museum pieces' to a Nightsider. So what are they doing here?_

"There is nothing left to discover here," said Tyr. "We should go." 

Something in the back of her mind told Beka that Tyr was right, that the wisest course now would be a report of their findings to Dylan. But she couldn't do it. She shut the box's lid and secured its locks. "We're taking these," she announced and started to lift it. 

Tyr disagreed. "Leave them!" The incredulous look he turned on her might have halted a person less devoted to her belongings, but Beka was a Valentine. 

An alarm cut through the air, shattering the stillness of the night. 

White lights flashed on overhead and glared downwards. 

Half a dozen Monarchean guards burst into the hall, blocking the exits, and surrounding the four visitors. 

Beka took one look at the stern expression worn by the leader of the guard, another look at the opened display cases and the various priceless items that were now scattered haphazardly about the room, and a final look at the box clutched in her hands. "It's not what it looks like," she said, faintly. 

The guard's expression didn't change. "Don't move!" he ordered. "You are in the custody of the Museum Guard." 

_Oh, brother!_ Beka thought. 

* * *

"DYLAN!" The call shuddered through his brain like a rock concert and forced the slumbering hero from another time to broad awakeness. "DYLAN!" 

Dylan shook his head but failed to still the ringing his ears. The last thing the captain remembered was an agreement with Administrator Lzar that certain records were to be transmitted to _Andromeda_ in the late morning when the security personnel possessing them would be available. The face of the impostor had to have been captured in at least one recording. Upon reaching the agreement, Dylan had returned to his assigned guest quarters at Administrator Elva's residence and retired for the night. 

"Ow!" he cried, jerking his head and knocking his pillow to the floor. He rubbed his jaw, neck, and ear as pain flashed in all three of these sites, before he dared to open his eyes. He deactivated his subvocorder to avoid another painful call slamming through his head, then stumbled out of bed and over to a comm console. Its screen was already flashing with the words, "Incoming call." With a single stroke of his wrist, he'd touched a button, accepting the transmission and disclosing the source of the harrowing wake-up call. 

"Rommie?" Dylan squinted through sleep-filled eyes at the screen. "What was that?" "Sorry, Dylan. I called your room before, but you weren't answering. I decided to try my own way of breaking through the interference. It worked, didn't it?" 

Silently, he wondered if the throbbing in his head would ever go away, then he answered her question. "Yes, but I'd rather you try something less excruciating next time." 

"I am sorry, Dylan. I didn't realize the amplification would be so strong--" 

"Forget it, Rommie. What's so urgent?" 

"Dylan, there's a problem. I've been monitoring various signals and there's an unsubstantiated rumor circulating that Beka, Trance, and Tyr broke into the Monarchean museum last night and vandalized the Hall of Music." 

"No, no, no!" said Dylan. He laid his head in his hands. "Where did I go wrong, Rommie? Just when I think they're finally starting to get the hang of this...Wait a minute!" Dylan raised his head from the sleeves of his striped pajamas. "They're my crew. They make mistakes sometimes, but something like this. Rommie, I simply can't believe it!" 

There was a pounding on the door of his chamber. 

Dylan slipped into a robe, but his house slippers were no where to be found. He skipped across the cold marble floor and stopped cautiously next to the door, fearing what he might find on the other side. Commonwealth charter or no Commonwealth charter, the Monarcheans were a stickler for laws and if there was any truth in the rumor he'd just heard-- 

The pounding came again, harder this time, along with an impatient voice. "Dylan! Wake up!" 

"Beka?" Dylan asked. He'd just been visualizing her inside a Monarchean holding cell, along with Trance and Tyr. It was hard to displace the thought with the fact she was standing outside his door. He deactivated the lock and the captain of the _Maru_ barged in. 

"About time, sleepyhead!" Beka said. "I tried to call you, but I kept getting a busy signal. Oh, hi Rommie," said Beka, noticing the AI on screen. "Dylan, I have to tell you something." 

"First tell me you, Trance, and Tyr weren't in the Monarchean museum last night." 

"Oh," said Beka. "So you've heard. Yeah, actually I was hoping I'd get a chance to tell you about that before you did." 

"Yes, I've heard." Dylan's face fell with disappointment. "What are the Monarcheans doing about it?" 

"Guess it depends on what you want to do about it." 

"What I want?" Dylan was puzzled. "You mean they're not pressing charges?" 

"Pressing charges? Why?" 

"That's what usually done in situations like this." 

"Wouldn't do much good. Rafe's long gone by now. He's got more than a three day lead." 

"Rafe? Beka, what are you talking about?" 

"My brother--Rafael Valentine. Smart aleck who's taken up posing like a Commonwealth ambassador. What did you think I was talking about?" 

"Uh, nothing." 

"You were right, Dylan," said Andromeda. "They didn't vandalize the museum." 

Beka shook her head. "No. But you don't have to take my word for it. Administrator Elva's waiting to speak with you." With these words, she went out the door as swiftly as she'd come. 

Dylan was about to follow when a voice called him back. "Dylan?" 

"Yes, Rommie?" 

"You might want to get dressed first." 

"Right." Dylan closed his outer door and headed for the closet. 

* * *

"Hey," said Harper, catching Beka in the hall. 

"Hey," Beka replied back. She raised a questioning eyebrow. "Where you been all night?" 

"Shuttling repair supplies and trying getting ship's sensors back online. I missed some excitement, didn't I?" 

Beka nodded. "You have no idea." 

"What happened? What's got Administrator Elva outta her cocoon before the Music Festival starts? Why's she want to meet with all of us? I heard that you all were accused of breaking into the museum, stealing museum property, and vandalizing their prized music hall. Fill in the blanks for me, please. The suspense is killing me." 

"Rafe happened." 

"Oh, now that explains a lot. I know he's you're brother, Beka, but the guy's bad news. Anyone who can pull off a frame job from galaxies away gotta be trouble. So why aren't we all in custody? Or is there an interrogation awaiting me that you've mercifully neglected telling me about?" 

"Good thing for us and you, the frame job didn't stick. Our good aide Neeki contacted Administrator Elva and relayed what we knew about our phony ambassador." Her brow furrowed. "Now, we'll just have to see how much damage control we can do." 

* * *

Dylan arrived at last in his dark blue High Guard Uniform with the gold buttons, sporting a force lance at his side. He stopped in front of the group that had gathered in Administrator Elva's banquet hall. 

Beka, Tyr, Trance, and Harper were assembled here, along with Administrator Elva, Neeki, and the rest of Elva's entourage. 

"A pleasure to meet with you again, Captain Hunt," the silver Monarchean attired in a purple dress uniform greeted. Her dark eyes were troubled. "Knowledge that a impostor has been in our midst is unsettling. Preventative measures need to be taken to ensure such a thing does not occur again." 

"Yes," Dylan replied. "I agree and Andromeda's already working on some ID codes in case anyone ever should visit again claiming to be sent by me." 

"What can you tell us about the impostor, captain?" asked Elva. 

"Well--" Dylan looked about at his crew. "Rafe Valentine. As I recall, he wasn't exactly thrilled about the offer this 'fossil' gave him to stay with us and join our cause. Any idea why he suddenly wants to be a Commonwealth ambassador?" 

Beka shook her head. "Nothing good." 

Tyr looked at Dylan. "This cannot be allowed to continue. Even if he is playing his little game elsewhere, the potential enemies he leaves behind may pose a real threat to us and, having never made their acquaintance, we won't even know who they are let alone be prepared for an attack." 

Beka fidgeted. 

Administrator Elva spoke. "I can see you and your crew are as displeased as I about this situation, Captain Hunt. Monarchea also has its concerns about this crime. There have been attempts to steal museum property before, but these have been effectually thwarted. No one has ever succeeded in leaving Monarchea with anything taken from the Hall of Music. Until now. The Board fears if no action is taken against this crime, similar crimes will be encouraged and become more widespread. This is not a message we want sent, especially on the day when the Hall of Music is to be opened to the general public. Whatever the impostor's reasons, he has brought us the potential of even greater harm." 

"I know it's embarrassing to be fooled and taken advantage of, Administrator," replied Dylan. "And we're willing to do anything in our power to alleviate that feeling and to help." 

Beka sighed. 

"At least, that's why he's here," Harper whispered aside to Trance. "But I'm not promising anything." 

Administrator Elva shook her head. "I'm glad you speak so, Captain Hunt. It is good to know you are so willing." 

Beka couldn't listen in silence another minute. "Cut through all this diplomacy chat. What is it you want us to do?" 

Administrator Elva nodded to Neeki. 

Neeki pointed the tips of her wings, drawing the group's attention to a screen monitor. The display showed a news broadcast was taking place. Administrator Lzar was displayed at a location outside. The group watched as he took his place at a podium and read aloud from a flexi in his hand. Neeki touched a button, allowing them to hear Lzar's words. "There was a vote taken this morning and it was the unanimous decision of the Board that the Festival of Music shall proceed as plan. However, the Hall of Music is to remain closed and no guests shall be admitted there." 

Trance's tail drooped as she heard those words. "But it's so pretty." she pouted. "And there's so many people in town who came especially to see it." 

"It shall remain closed," said Administrator Elva. 

"Until when?" asked Beka. 

The Administrator's voice was grave as she answered. "Until Rafe Valentine is brought to justice for his crimes." 


	8. Fair Exchange and No Robbery

**8**

**

FAIR EXCHANGE AND NO ROBBERY

**

In Beka's cabin aboard the _Eureka Maru_, the wheels in her head were turning. She was stretched out on her bed, but her thoughts prevented sleep. She had volunteered, no--insisted on being given this mission. If it wasn't for _Andromeda's_ first visit to the planet, the Monarcheans would never have been so trusting of a stranger. And Dylan would never have trusted Rafe the first time he met him, had it not been for Beka's decision to trust her wayward brother. In a way, she felt responsible for this whole mess.

When her brother had first encountered the _Andromeda Ascendant_, he'd come claiming to have changed his ways, but what followed was an attempt at sabotage to _Andromeda_ and a string of lies about Restors and FTA covert ops. The incident ended better than one could have imagined, since Beka and Rafe pulled off a con, engineered by Dylan, causing their Restorian attackers to pull the trigger on themselves.

As a reward, Rafe had been given a clean slate. But only hours later, Beka discovered his theft of her prized CD collection. She also realized a sob story Rafe had her believing was so scrambled that the truth of it couldn't be distinguished from the fiction. He charmed. He lied. He profited. Such was Rafe.

_My big brother._

"I won't make a promise I can't keep but, if anyone can find him, I can," she'd told the gathering in Elva's banquet hall. 

The Monarchean officials had given her leave to look over the quarters he'd occupied while visiting the planet, even housekeeping was absorbed in prepartions for the festival, and the quarters hadn't been touched since his departure. She'd hoped to find a clue there, but Rafe had played his part well. There was absolutely nothing in his quarters to suggest that he wasn't a Commonwealth ambassador. 

When Rafe played a part, he was a chameleon. He put his heart into the role. To all outward appearance, he turned completely into the person portrayed. Even down to the smallest details. There were the remains of daisies sitting in a vase on his former night stand. 

Rafe hated daisies. 

That is why it puzzled her so much that Rafe would leave behind her CD collection. With the Festival of Music so close, he had to know Valtari's box would be opened, the disappearance of the artifact discovered, the ambassador's long visit to the Hall of Music remembered, and _Andromeda_ contacted. Why leave such a glaring clue to his true identity when he was usually so flawless? 

She sat up, giving up on the idea of snatching some sleep. She'd only planned on a quick nap and consequently hadn't bothered to change before lying down. She got up and stomped to the kitchen. Securing a cup of coffee, she walked quickly over to a table. 

Her CDs were scattered across its surface. She'd planned on sorting and counting them when she found some down time, but, as she stared at the discs, inspiration struck. She slid the different CD's cases back and forth, looking at all the covers, shoving aside the ones she'd already seen to make way for those underneath which she hadn't looked upon yet. She smiled, sporadically humming a bar of a remembered song she knew a CD case contained. She knew the pictures on each case by heart. The sorting went on this way for several minutes, then her blue eyes fastened and held on a cover that stood out from the rest. 

It stood out because she had never seen it before in her life. 

She fished it from the pile and studied the cover. The picture was of a midnight blue blackground which represented the sky and a captital letter A, blood red, floated in the sky. 

A for apple? 

A for Andromeda? 

A for..._Ambassador_. 

"Pay load," Beka cried, pleased at this breakthrough. She ran to the wall. She popped the case open and stuck its resident disc into her player. 

A holo-recording shimmered to life. 

Dark hair, laughing eyes which mirrored her own, handsome face and that tongue-in-cheek manner, the combination of traits that were all too familiar to her. The tall figure was wearing a red High Guard Uniform. "So, Little Sister," Rafe's voice bubbled playfully like they'd been in a game of Hide-N-Seek. "You found me! Good job. I knew you could do it." 

Beka rolled her eyes at the brotherly commendation and waited for the rest of his message. 

"See what association with Captain Terrific has done to you, Rocket? You're actually donating valuable goods to museums for free. And you call yourself a Valentine." Holo-Rafe crossed his arms and shook his head. "But it was smart of you to look through the discs. No one else would have thought of that." 

Beka blinked and shuffled her feet, impatiently. "What's your point, Rafe?" 

As if anticipating her impatience, Holo-Rafe chuckled. "Well, I'm not going to keep you in the dark any longer. Hopefully, you've got all your precious discs back and if I don't have them, I won't be tempted to sell them. Wouldn't have done it, but I was strapped for credits. You got back something of yours and I took something which should have been mine all along. Tell you more about it sometime when I see you again, sis. Trust me, it's a fair exchange and no robbery. Try and figure that one, Valentine Smart. Valentine Smarter, out." 

The recording ended and Rafe's mocking grin faded away with it. 

Beka raised her eyebrows and stared into the empty air where her brother's image had just vanished. His gloating attitude didn't surprise her. What good was a master con job if you had no one to brag to about it? The only thing that really puzzled her was what he meant when he said he'd taken what rightfully belonged to him. Ah, well. It didn't matter now. Her blue eyes held a determined look as she took the disc from the player. "So you wanna play, do you, Big Brother? I accept the challenge." 

She made her way to a viewscreen located just outside the cockpit, pressed a control to open a channel, and tried to call Dylan. 

Instead, the image of _Andromeda's_ AI, wearing a red High Guard uniform, appeared onscreen. Her brown eyes were fixed on nothing in particular as she began to speak. "I'm sorry. The captain is engaged in an important conference right now. Your communication is important to us. Thank you for making the effort to contact him. If you would like to leave a message or be alerted when the captain becomes free--" 

"Rommie?" Beka interrupted. It took all of her will to keep from laughing outright at the ultra-polite intonations and words she had just heard. "What are you doing?" 

"Oh, Beka. It's you," said Andromeda, recognizing her voice. The face on the screen frowned and explained. "Along with my repairs, Harper installed me with a new self-editing program and I was concentrating on integrating it with my systems to prepare for beta-testing. Dylan had suggested I use it to present a more pleasing face within my shipwide communication's system. Even though, he's currently planetside, all his calls are be routed to me while he participates in the music festival." 

"He did, did he? More pleasing? You mean nicer, right?" 

"As a warship, I sometimes have the tendency to be more abrupt. I just implemented this automated answering program for when someone attempts to establish contact on an onboard personal communication frequency already in use or privacy mode has been engaged for one of the crew's quarters. What did you think?" 

"You want the truth?" 

"Of course." 

"What is it you usually would say in this situation?" 

"I'll show you." Andromeda's face took on a stern look. "The captain is busy. He's not to be disturbed. Harper, if this is you, no I don't know what time he'll be free. No, I don't know if it will be anytime soon. Ask anymore ridiculous questions and I must remind you you do not want to get on the wrong side of the one who controls what goes into your food." At her last words, the screen went to a dark background and white letters appeared boldly, flashing the words, 'Do not disturb.' The words remained there until Beka touched a control which left the comm function and returned to the main screen. 

"Well?" 

Beka nodded. "I liked that way better." 

"It's not very nice," said Rommie, uncertainly. 

"No, but it's you. Don't try to self-edit yourself into being someone you're really not. Try and change yourself for a man, become exactly what he wants you to be, and he'll get bored with you and move on. It's not worth it. Believe me, I know." 

"Thanks for the advice, Beka. I'll keep that in mind." 

"Are you giving advice now, Captain Valentine?" a voice boomed from behind Beka. The _Maru_ was still parked in Hangar Deck and she'd left the airlock open. "I hope there is some to spare for me." 

"Tyr!" Beka turned away from the view screen. Preoccupied with thoughts of finding Rafe, she hadn't heard Tyr coming this time. "Wish you wouldn't do that." 

"What was I doing?" Tyr asked, standing just inside the airlock. 

"I mean sneaking up on people." She idly wondered how much of her conversation with Rommie he had overheard. "What are you doing here anyway?" 

"I certainly was not attempting to sneak. I was, in fact, looking for you, Captain Valentine." 

"Oh?" said Beka. "Why?" 

"We are long overdue for a conversation and with events being as they are, we should finish it." His brown eyes studied her with concern. His voice softened. "What must I do in order for you to trust me?" 

It was the wrong choice of words at this particular moment, when Beka was thinking about Rafe and, in turn, her father. The two people she should have been able to trust the most. The two people who had let her down the most. 

"Isn't trust relative with you, Tyr? Aren't your loyalties to who's on the winning side? To advance your own survival? So can I trust you? Can I? Can I really?" Beka challenged. She turned down the corridor towards a cargo bay and he followed. "Because for some reason I remember a certain Nietzschean putting a certain belonging of his onboard Andromeda, but forgetting to mention the fact that it'd make us the prime subject of interest to the Drago Kazoz, not to mention the other prides who'd like to get their hands on it. Including the one that caused us to crash the _Maru_ on that ice-ridden planet." 

This was enlightening. "That upset you?" 

Beka flashed an angry glare. "You bet it upset me. When there's an extra bull's eye painted on my back, I like to know about it." 

"If I'm not mistaken, you once told Dylan that all of us had other reasons for being here." 

"You mean hidden agendas? Yeah, I did." 

"There are things from the Magog's past that, for obvious reasons, he never talks about. And yet you respect him as a valued member of the crew. Even when he was starving and we were his only potential food source, you trusted him." Personally, Tyr still thought it quite foolish to trust a Magog on the brink of starvation, but Bem had managed not to devour anyone and they'd made it back safely to _Andromeda_. 

"That's right," said Beka in a tone less angry than a moment ago. "But whose ex-buddies were they that stranded us in the first place?" 

"As they aptly proved, they were no friends of mine. I didn't know they would be so persistant in their pursuit of me. It was never my intention--" Tyr began and then thought it better to continue with his original line of reasoning. "You must admit that even the good Captain Hunt keeps secrets. There are things he has told us which have only arisen out of the necessity of information he needs us to know. Doubtless, there are things he plans--that he has yet to divulge." 

"Sounds like Dylan," Beka admitted, recalling how the captain had kept a nova bomb aboard Andromeda without sharing that knowledge with his crew. 

Tyr glanced for a moment around the cargo bay. He watched as Beka stopped before a crate. "And Trance Gemini," Tyr went on. "The Purple Girl is one of the biggest puzzle makers of them all." 

"As well as one of my best friends," Beka finished the thought before Tyr had completed it. 

"So the fact I kept certain information from you should be no surprise." 

Beka stared hard at the wall for a moment. Of course, it should be no surprise. She'd always known Tyr was up to something when he'd agreed to stay on board the _Andromeda_. She gave a resigned sigh. "The company I keep. Okay, Tyr. Maybe I was being a little harsh. So, what's up? Why is my trust so important to you all of a sudden?" "As you may recall, Mister Harper found a clue on Valtari's box as to the nature of the Nietzschean artifact. You never told me if you knew it yourself. At times, it has even seemed that you deliberately avoid the subject." 

"That's what you want to know? If I knew? Okay, we'll talk about it." 

"When?" Tyr replied, fixing a serious gaze upon her. 

"When I'm ready," Beka replied. She knelt down and pushed a crate towards the wall of the bay. "And right now, I'm ready to find my brother." 

"The repairs to the _Andromeda_ won't be finished for another day," Tyr replied. 

"I can't wait," said Beka. "I'm taking the _Maru_ now. Yeah. _Maru's_ gotta enough supplies here to last two weeks. It's pretty much a lost cause if I don't find Rafe by then. The festival will be over." She paused for a moment, fiddling with a strap which secured the crate to the floor. Their conversation was over but the Nietzschean still lingered. 

"Are you certain about this mission?" Tyr asked after a moment. "He is your brother." 

"Are you saying I can't do this?" Beka asked, defensively. "No one knows Rafe as well I do. If anyone can find him, it's me." 

Tyr had an analytical look in his eyes. "What I'm saying is, and mean no offense, the very thing that makes you the best person for this task, also makes you the worst person for it. Your strength is also your weakness. Obviously the man knows you as well you know him. And has the ability to fool you." 

A frown skipped across Beka's forehead but left as quickly as it came. "I can do this on my own, Tyr." 

"I beg your pardon?" 

The hint of a grin tugged around Beka's lips. "You were about to offer to come with me? So, I won't be fooled again." 

Puzzlement crossed Tyr's face. He hadn't expected the question. "Would you want me to come?" 

"Well...Why not?" Beka rose to her feet, brushing dust off the knees of her pants. "I mean, get this straight, it's my mission. But with another pilot, there'd be less stops and better chances of catching up with our dear representative. So, the short version is, yeah. I want you to come." Besides, Beka's thought ran on, considering the rough territory where she'd be heading, it wouldn't be long before Dylan gave her the "If-you're-going-you're- not-going-alone" speech. Harper and Rommie were tied up in the finishing touches of ship's repairs, Dylan with his diplomatic obligations to the Monarcheans, and Trance...well, Trance already had experienced her fill of Beka-induced adventure during the Uncle Sid Reunion of Nightmares last year. Tyr seemed the right choice. 

But would he agree to come? There was no way to tell what was going on in his head as she looked at him. He was standing still as a statue. Silence filled the air and Beka couldn't even discern if he was breathing. Her own breath sounded loud in her ears compared to the surrounding hush. She punctuated the stillness with her voice. "Think about if you want, but this ride leaves in twenty minutes." 

At last, the statue shrugged his shoulders and breathed. "Sound reasoning. And where exactly are we going, Captain Valentine?" 

Beka's grin broke out in full force. She had a mission to accomplish and she'd just gained a valuable player. 


	9. Finding Rafe

**A/N:**_The last few reviews I got for this wondered why I had stopped writing this story and wished for its continuance. It's amazing what a few reviews can do. :) If you would like to send me feedback, but are too shy to write a public review, you can email rainbowscape@yahoo.com._

9

FINDING RAFE

Red was his favorite color. 

He kept red glasses in the window of shop, admiring the way they caught the light and shot ruby red beams on the walls during the day. 

He peered over the counter. 

No real customers yet. 

Taking advantage of the lull, he counted his currency, pleased to note business had recently taken an upward turn. 

Yes, business had been limping after that terrible day he'd been taken into custody by the Monarcheans to be questioned for his part in a dishonest scheme, but he'd cut all ties with that planet now. He had made a deal, his testimony against the main perpetrator, Reha, for lesser charges. 

His time had been served. 

The shop on Platea had been in the care of a relative while he was away and while, unfortunately, that relation had inherited none of his business sense, no one had been able to simply seize the business from him. 

He'd been careful Up at the front, the legitimate business transactions of an antique dealer occurred. Only after hours, in the back, did the more questionable transactions ensue. 

The bells in the shop's doorway tinkled. 

He listened to the footfalls of the new arrivals, but did not look up as he finished up his last bit of counting. In his experience, most customers liked to browse before they bought. 

A pair of footsteps approached the counter. Before he could look up, a voice from the past said, "Beni! Good to see you. Still in business?" 

The benign words held no threat, but a shiver ran down his spine as he recognized the speaker. 

Beni pushed closed his drawer, gathering his nerves. He pasted a smile on his face. "What can I do for you, Captain Valentine?" 

"Remember that item I bought from you?" 

How could he forget it? "Of course." 

"I was the highest bidder. The others--Who were they?" 

"You know, I hardly remember." Beni shrugged. "I do business with so many--" 

"Let me jog your memory." Beka pointed over her shoulder. "Remember him?" 

Looking over, Beni nearly froze on the spot. It was the Nietzschean! The Nietzschean who had tracked him down and dragged him before the Monarchean officials. The tall Nietzschean stared darkly back at him and pulled a round, inflated ball from behind his back. 

A ball? 

For a moment, Beni was puzzled. Why in the world was the Nietzschean carrying a ball? 

As if in answer, Tyr Anasazi tossed the ball against the ceiling and caught it again. Then, he began to dribble it vigorously across the shop floor. 

Beni watched as the ball traveled in dangerous proximity to an antique vase and a vintage crystalline stand. The shopkeeper's face dropped all pretense of a smile. 

That was answer enough to Beka's question. She held up a vid flexi with a picture displayed. "So let me put this another way. Did one of your bidders happen to be this man, Rafael Valentine?" 

Beni watched the delicate glasses and goblets rattling in the window display next to where Tyr had stationed himself. "Yes," he replied. 

Beka nodded and withdrew the flexi. "When was the last time you saw him?" 

Beni pondered the question. His glance wandered to the Nietzschean who had succeeded in knocking the ball to the floor and letting it bounce up again in a rather rhythmic, ominous beat. 

_Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump._

Beni answered, "Several days ago, I think." 

"And what did he want?" 

Beni shook his head. "It is against my policy to share information about my customers." 

The ball bounced fiercely, sailing higher and higher with each rebound, treacherously close to the precious red glasses. 

_Thump thud. Thump thud. Thump thud._

He thought quickly. Yes, that scoundrel Rafe Valentine had come to see him. Beni remembered exactly what he wanted. Among other things, he'd wanted the names of the other bidders for that cursed Nietzschean artifact that Beni now wished had never come into his possession. Or else, as Rafe had so cheerily put it, the rumor mill might just broadcast that Beni was a rat. Stool pigeon. And what self-respecting criminal clientele would do business with someone who might just as easily turn them over to the authorities as part of the bargain? 

Rafe Valentine got what he wanted. 

Short in stature, Beni was not short in brains. The faster Beka Valentine got what she wanted, the faster she would leave and take that destructive Nietzschean with her. "A name." 

"A name?" Beka frowned. "Who?" 

"A name for himself," Beni replied. "A new identity." Beni anticipated her next question and answered it promptly. "In order to travel." 

"Where?" 

"Why would he tell me that?" 

"He wouldn't. But you'd be the one to find out. So, tell me?" 

_Thump-thud. Thump-thud. Thump-thud._

So he told them. 

_Thump-thud. Thump-thud. Thump--_

Beka nodded at the information and gestured to Tyr. "Let's go." 

Beni cringed as the Nietszchean threw the ball up into the air adjacent to the window display. 

Then, he gasped with relief. 

The ball didn't complete its arc downwards. It touched and settled in a shallow basket of a hanging flower arrangement, setting the basket swaying slightly. 

His cross-examiners departed the way they had come. 

The door slammed shut behind them so loudly its vibrations were felt throughout the room. 

The ball wobbled. With the sudden uneven distribution of the weight, the hanging basket tilted. 

The ball rolled. 

The basket tipped. 

Beni winced. 

Dislodged, the ball fell from its precarious perch. It glanced off the window pane, and dropped directly upon the glasses in the window display underneath it. 

Glasses rolled, knocking into others with splintering noises, the upsetting domino effect resulted in a series of smashes and crashes. Those pieces that were unharmed in the initial knockdown did not survive their impact with the floor below. 

The shopkeeper surveyed the scene silently. 

Staring at the fallen red shards, something inside him fell and shattered as well. 

A Valentine had bested him twice in the last week. 

Forget about the business. Perhaps it was time to close up shop. For good. 

Move. Retire. 

Find a place where there were no Valentines. 

_______

Beka and Tyr walked along towards where the _Eureka Maru_ was docked. As they went, Beka grinned sideways at him. 

"What?" Tyr asked, catching her glance. 

"That ball!" Beka burst. "I can't get over the fact that you threatened Beni with a basketball. And once more, that it actually worked!" She gave up trying to hold back her laughter. 

"That is nothing to laugh over," Tyr retorted, grinning in spite of himself. "Now, I have to thank Dylan for it." 

"For the basketball?" 

"No," said Tyr. "But I may admit that bouncing ball attacks hold some merit after all." 

Beka started to reply, but Tyr stiffened suddenly. Beka took note. "What is it?" 

Tyr's head inclined slightly, indicating behind them. 

Beka understood. Silence fell between them. 

Alerted, she matched his step and they moved forward more quickly. 

Reaching an intersection, the two dodged suddenly to the right and turned the corner. 

Here, the cohorts stopped. In full accord, they waited. 

Their shadow was easy to spot. 

A figure, bent forward and running, wearing a hooded long jacket and a backpack. Its harried steps came to a halt at the unexpected sight of its waiting quarry. The hood fell back and a familiar face was revealed. 

Neeki looked both surprised and relieved to have been discovered. "I wanted to join the search," she stammered. "I wanted to do something." 

It was now clear to see that the "backpack" wasn't one. Instead, Neeki had folded back her wings and disguised them as a pack. Not many Monarcheans traveled abroad. She would be much less noticeable this way. 

Tyr glanced at Beka. It was her call. 

Beka pondered. "If you come with us, you'd have to do what I tell you, when I tell you." 

Neeki nodded in agreement. 

"Well then, welcome aboard," said Beka, heartily. "Now, let's move. We have a lot of space to cover." 

_______

"Of course, it's the genuine article. Would I lie to you?" The dark-haired speaker managed to smile even with the furry hands of his interrogator clamped around his neck. 

The Nightsider wiggled his nose with displeasure, then relaxed his grip and let the con fall back to the floor. "You're worth more to me alive then dead, Valentine. Be glad of that." 

Rafe coughed involuntarily as his body slapped the hard deck of the station's corridor, but he quickly changed to an upright position, dusted himself off, and rose to his feet. He even dared to straighten the collar of his jacket. Nightsiders...all talk, no action. Overgrown rats! He despised them. Unfortunately, he also owed this particular Nightsider a great sum of thrones. 

Raskin shook his head at the human. "I should have never hired you. You had no business traveling through Arena's Path. It's a known pirate's haunt." 

"It was a short cut," Rafe countered. 

"One that cost me my whole shipment!" shouted Raskin. 

"So you took my ship. Why don't we forget this whole deal and call it even?" 

"Don't think so. Now." Raskin leaned over to look into Rafe's face. "This Nietzschean antiquity thingamagig. Nietzscheans will pay a grand fortune for it?" 

"You can bet on it." 

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, young tadpole. You have nothing to wager--I've taken everything you own. Be glad you still wear the clothes on your back," the Nightsider replied. He rubbed his hands together, greedily. "So, you're saying you'll be able to pay as soon as you dispose of this item?" 

Rafe gave a grand nod. "That's what I'm saying." 

"And you have it here...now? Hidden somewhere? Here, perhaps, on the drift?" 

Rafe chuckled. "What do you take me for? A fool? I never reveal my secrets." 

Raskin stomped his foot like a child. "I want to know!" he whined. 

"Yeah," Rafe crossed his arms and took a step backwards. Though he didn't have much respect for Nightsiders, he did have a healthy respect for the tough assorted thugs that often accompanied them. "So you can totally cut me out right here? Well, that's a bad plan. See the Nietzscheans are willing to deal with me. But they'd trust you even less than me." 

Raskin showed his teeth. "Alright," he snuffled. "But if you don't contact me within the next three days, I'm coming after you. And in our next meeting I won't be so forgiving." 

Raskin stomped off. 

A smart remark tripped to the end of his tongue, but Rafe held it back, knowing that Nightsiders had amazing ears. 

Turning to go, Rafe was startled by the sound of clapping. Then, he heard a voice. 

"I must hand it to you, Rafe." The voice chuckled. "You've got a knack for wheedling your way out of hard situations." 

Rafe looked around but all he saw were shadows in the corridor. He called out, softly, hardly able to believe she would be able to catch up with him so swiftly. "Little Sister?" 

Beka stepped into the light. "Hello, Big Brother. Mind telling me why you duped an entire planet into thinking the _Andromeda_ sent you?" As she spoke her accusation, she took a step forward. 

"Look, Rocket. It wasn't as bad as all that." Rafe took a step back but collided with a solid, big object. Looking over his shoulder he found himself staring into the face of Tyr Anasazi. He turned back to Beka and gestured to Tyr. "I see you brought some company." 

"Yes, because this is one situation your fast talking is not going to get you out of. Rafe Valentine, by the authority given me by the Monarchean government, I am placing you under arrest." 

Rafe gave Beka a charmingly, boyish pout and held out his arms. "What? No hug?" 

A staring match began. Beka held a stern look on her face for a full thirty seconds, but Rafe's grin was infectious. It spread to her own face along with a near fit of laughter. 

"You weasel!" Beka cried, launching a mock attack on Rafe and the battle ended in a hug. Beka pulled back and punched her brother's shoulder. "Monarchea is outraged. They want to lock you up and throw away the key!" 

"But I didn't do any harm," Rafe protested. 

Beka continued, "When I found my music in the Monarchean museum--" 

Rafe quirked an eyebrow. "What were you doing looking that closely at the museum displays?" 

"I wouldn't have had to if a certain person hadn't gone around posing as Ambassador of Peace. What sunspot were you staring into when you came up with that title?" Beka gave Rafe an accusatory glare. "Who set that extra trigger to the alarm system--The proper alarm codes had been entered, so even if that box was moved it shouldn't have--" 

Rafe smiled, cordially. "Oh c'mon, Rocket. It's not like they would have executed you or anything. You'd just be slowed down a little bit in coming after me." 

"How'd you know _Andromeda_ was even coming back to Monarchea, Rafe? We didn't even know that." 

Rafe crossed his arms. "You and I both know how much that box was worth. I couldn't believe you would just leave it there forever." 

Beka studied Rafe. "So, it was just a coincidence that Credan traders attacked us for no reason whatsoever?" 

Rafe rubbed his chin. "Rocket? Would I lie to you?" 

"In a heartbeat!" Beka shot. "I wasn't joking about the arrest." She pulled on Rafe's arm. "Come on, we're going back to the _Maru_. You have some serious apologies to make." 

"Can't." Rafe shook his head. "I have an appointment." 

Beka rolled her eyes. "With whom?" 

Rafe glanced at Tyr, then turned once more to Beka. "A pride." 

Tyr had watched the entire exchange without speaking, but this news peaked his interest. He leaned forward. "What pride?" 

At the question, Rafe glanced at Tyr uncertainly. 

"Trust him," Beka urged. "He's with me." 

Rafe looked skeptical. "That's supposed to make me feel better? It's an important meeting and I don't want to be late. Plus, I promised to come alone." 

"What pride?" Beka repeated. Sibling or no, she was prepared to twist his arm. 

"I could swear there was an echo in here." Rafe sighed. "I'm meeting a member of the Sabra-Jaguar. Ow!" 

Beka's eyebrows went up. "Specifically?" 

Tyr's voice rumbled menacingly, "Who would that be?" 

Rafe eyed Beka and Tyr with amusement. "He finishes your sentences, too. Ow!" Rafe nodded down the corridor. "You don't have to twist my arm. Come with me and see for yourselves." 

Beka released her brother's arm. "Agreed." 

Tyr placed his hands on his belt, glanced significantly at his force lance, then unblocked the con artist's path. "Lead the way." 

Rafe sidled onwards, Tyr and Beka walked closely on each side. 

Rafe glanced over his newly acquired guards and smiled. "But don't say I didn't warn you." 


	10. Familiar Faces

**A/N**_: Lraine, thanks for the compliment on this story. B.L.A., I always appreciate your input and your fics. Iorekbyrn, I'm glad you enjoyed Trial of the Eureka Maru and this story too. I really can't stand to leave a story unfinished, so I am continuing this as it is one of my favorite fics to write. Besides, I'd hate to leave Beka/Tyr fans hanging._

**9**

**FAMILIAR FACES**

Beka came to a standstill. "Wait!"

Rafe frowned and kept walking. "What do you mean wait, we're almost--"

Tyr grabbed Rafe's shoulder. "Hush!" He listened and heard it too.

Beka crinkled her forehead. "What is that?"

The high-pitched whine ofpulse weapons reached their ears clearly now.

Rafe's frown deepened. "Oh, no! They're early." He fell suddenly to the floor ripping out of Tyr's grasp, rolled, and leapt back to his feet. Rafe was off running around the corner before either of them could stop him.

Quickly, Beka and Tyr followed his fleeting form. Rounding the corner, they spotted Rafe, dodging behind some crates and scrambling in the direction of the weapons' fire.

Rafe must have heard them behind him. He raised his hand in a gesture that begged for silence and peered between the gaps in the crates.

Beka crawled up beside him. Peering over the crates cautiously, Beka spotted a nasty-looking pair of Nietzscheans. Worse still, she recognized one significant Nietzschean symbol. "Those guys aren't the Sabra-Jaguar, Rafe," she whispered in her brother's ear.

"Not quite," Rafe agreed.

His lack of surprise concerned her. "You knew they were coming?"

A smile grew on his face. "Hey, the more bidders. Bigger bids."

"Are you crazy?"

The mocking smile left his lips. "But I didn't schedule these appointments so close together. They weren't supposed to arrive until tomorrow."

"Rafe!"

"Cut me a break, Rocket. I don't control the universe."

"You sure try to manipulate it enough!"

"There's nothing wrong with trying to juggle the odds in my favor," Rafe returned.

Tyr looked out upon the scene of the Nietzschean fire fight and a blaze kindled in his eyes. "The Drago-Kazoz," he rumbled. "My sworn enemies."

Beka grew almost as somber as Tyr. She never did like it when he got that dangerous, brooding look in his eye. She clapped a hand on his shoulder, wishing to pull him back from whatever dark place his mind was visiting. "Yeah, but who are they fighting?"

The rapid fire ceased abruptly and the Nietzscheans in sight turned and ran down the corridor.

Rafe turned away as well. "I'm not sticking around here to find out."

"Hold it, bro! The Sabra-Jaguar and the Drago-Kazoz. It's like mixing oil and water. You invited them both here. What do they want?"

"This isn't my fault." The self-assured Rafe suddenly turned ashen at the thoughts her question provoked. "The meeting," he replied, urgently. "You're right. We better go." Rafe stepped around the crates and into the corridor. Tyr moved after him, clearly determined not to lose him this time.

It was on Beka's tongue to ask again who they meeting with, but she thought it better to waste no more time and followed them swiftly.

-----------------

His world snapped back into focus accompanied by hot and searing pain. Lying on the floor, Charlemagne Bolivar clutched the back of his head and decided if his bodyguards weren't dead already, he'd kill them.

That is, after he survived this attack on his life. He sprang to his feet, bone blades ready, but no one met him in battle.

The room was clear of any foes. The maze of storage containers filled with boxes, bags and other bits and pieces of trash and treasure were another story. Not to mention how various items littered the floor, obviously thrown there by some careless hand.

So his attackers were gone? Leaving him alive? Why?

Footsteps sounded out in the corridor. Maybe they hadn't left after all.

There were no high power weapons available, but Charlemagne readied himself, prepared to use the element of surprise to gain a brief upper hand on his unseen opponents. His throat was dusty and it took all of his willpower to halt a sneeze that threatened. He pulled his shoulders back, trying to appear taller and less injured than he actually felt.

His ears caught the voices before they rounded the bend and came through the hatch.

"You were keeping it here?" asked Beka in disbelief. "Might as well stash it your quarters under a neon sign!"

"Why so surprised, Booster Rocket? Haven't you ever heard of hiding something in plain sight?"

"But a storage room?" Beka asked, still doubtful.

Bolivar cleared his throat as they entered.

The bantering siblings halted at the sight of him. Tyr Anasazi came up close behind them and fixed a suspicious stare upon him.

"My allies." Charlemagne spoke with relief. "You are a sight for sore eyes. Literally. I only wish you might have appeared sooner and saved me this nuisance." He no longer tried to hide his bleeding nose.

Beka quickly tore a corner from a nearby sheet, balled it up, then pressed it against his nose. "Tilt your head. Press here."

Charlemagne allowed her ministrations. He could feel his nose beginning to heal already, the benefit of superior genes, but there was no reason to tell her. "Did you see them?" he asked, hopefully. His words were smothered a little. "My unknown assailants?"

"The Dragons," Rafe replied with a frown. Rafe surveyed the upset state of the room in dismay. "We saw them alright."

"Drago-Kazoz. Impossible! Do you think they would have left me alive?"

"Besides the nose, no broken bones," Beka agreed. "You got off easy."

"Maybe they'd didn't recognize you?" Rafe suggested.

Charlemagne ignored the human like he had never spoken.

"And my escorts?" Charlemagne continued, trying to retain his dignity.

"Dead," Tyr confirmed.

Beka took a step back, leaving the soiled cloth in his hands. Charlemagne looked stronger than he had moments ago. "But you'll live. Shall we contact your ship?" she inquired.

Charlemagne scowled at Rafe and immediately regretted it as his nose painfully protested such a contortion of his features. "I demand you take this man into custody for luring me here with intent to take my life. Call the authorities and place him under arrest."

Beka whistled. "First, the Monarcheans then the Sabra-Jaguar pride. If you're trying to win the record for making the most people mad at you, this certainly is your week." She smiled at Charlemagne. "I happen to be acting in an official capacity for Monarchea and he's already in my custody. If you want to charge him, you'll have to get in line."

"I had nothing to do with this attack," Rafe protested, raising his eyebrows. "Believe me, Beka. I might get involved in a few underhanded schemes now and then, but murder is never a good business."

Tyr held up an accusing pointer. "Correct me if I am wrong, but did you not scheme to destroy the _Andromeda_ which would in turn, have involved the loss of all lives onboard?"

Rafe held up his hands. "That was all a big misunderstanding. I warned Beka and besides, I didn't go through with it! But believe me Your uh High Sabra-Jaguarness, I never meant for any harm to come to you. A deal is a deal."

Bolivar looked unconvinced. He spoke to Beka. "Contacting my ship would do me little good without proper protection aboard it. Our enemies may be searching for it as we speak and I have no backup support nearby. This operation was to be a covert transaction that no one was to know about."

Beka's eyes twinkled shrewdly. "Not even Elsbett?"

"There was no reason to involve her in a venture that might prove to be a sham. If such proved to be the case, I wished to avoid embarrassment from all quarters. Therefore, I traveled lightly."

Rafe, tearing busily through a huge storage bin he'd waded into, stopped dead. "It's not a sham and you know it. Where is it? Did you find it and move it? Did they take it?"

Beka shot her brother a warning look, but Charlemagne didn't seem to mind. He responded to Rafe briefly, in the tone one addresses a child. "If what you promised ever in fact existed, I never saw it. Upon my arrival here, a group of miscreants attacked me from behind." He nodded at Beka. "Having lost my entourage I should like to call upon the services of your ship, Captain Valentine. I need safe passage off this drift and if there should be more hostile Nietzscheans lurking in the area, I would rather avoid them." He peered over at Tyr. "Present company excluded, of course."

Tyr grinned unpleasantly at Charlemagne. "You traveled foolishly, especially if you were listening to this miserable liar."

"Hey, watch it!" Rafe protested. "I like to think of myself as a happy liar. Although, I don't think I'm going to be anymore if my merchandise doesn't show itself." He pulled another box from the bin and sighed. "It's definitely gone."

Charlemagne looked at Tyr with contempt. "I made an enterprising decision. A brain exercise which you obviously would not understand, being you spend most of your time exercising your muscles if only to make up for what you lack in other areas."

Beka decided to put a stop to these gibes before things escalated. She frowned at them all. "Well, I don't know about you boys, but I don't think standing here butting heads is going to get us anywhere but killed, especially if the bad guys suddenly realize they didn't finish the job on Mister Royal here. Let's get back to the _Maru _first. Then, we talk."

Charlemagne nodded. "A wise choice, Captain Valentine."

Tyr walked over to the bin to retrieve their prisoner.

"I can't leave now," Rafe complained. "Someone stole what I rightfully stole first!"

Beka's eyes narrowed slyly. "Okay, Rafe. You're free to go."

"I am?" Rafe suddenly felt very uncomfortable. What game was Beka playing?

Beka nodded. "Of course without a ship you'll have to explain to what other buyers you've got lined up that they traveled all this way for nothing. Your friend the Nightsider might get a little antsy before then. I'm sure the Monarchean government will find that punishment enough."

"Very funny," Rafe replied. He climbed out of the bin in defeat. "Alright, I surrender. Let's fly."


End file.
